"And who the fuck are you?", one of the abandoned office dwellers demanded.
"The Street Dogs, that's who. Came to see who the hell thinks they're running Elmsign without our permission."
"Permission? You think I'm gonna answer to some posse that swept out Heavy Thorns when they were weak?"
"They were weak, always have been. Wiped by a single person, must've been a gang of children."
Jay was quick to respond with equal aggression. He was not willing to lose when he had such an important task at hand. Perhaps he was a little too eager, for he failed to perform the dance of tension properly. It rose and thickened in an instant.
"Excuse you? Falling for some mere rumors? As if Heavy Thorns would fall to a single person."
"Really? That's really fucking strange considering I didn't see you there when they were wiped."
Jay and the one speaking moved closer. Attempting to tower over the other their eyes met with hatred.
"You act as if you were there."
"Because I was. You're looking at the man who handled Heavy Thorn. The name's Jay, familiar much?"
"Oh the source of the rumors. We were just about to go searching for you. Glad you came to our doorstep. Now we can do as we planned."
The tension was thick enough to make the next second stretch on for a minute. With Jay being inexperienced, the tension was too high to maintain. The closest one to Jay acted first, a punch being thrown out without any warning.
Then and there a brawl began. Jay raised his arm to block the blow, but the fist dug deep into his arm. His leather jacket ripped and blood began to flow. Track and the others were quick to react and leapt to subdue the other members, leaving Jay to fight the instigator alone.
Truth be told they were outnumbered slightly. Precisely about two, for the young boy wasn't a fighter. Thus Track deemed the best option was for Jay to handle the group's leader himself while they took down the others. For even if they failed, if Jay succeeded the morale would shift into their favor.
Jay took a step back and held the fresh wound. The instigator cracked his knuckles, "Figured as much, there's not a chance you took down Heavy Thorn alone."
"Speaking a whole lotta shit for someone who landed a cheap blow."
"So be it. My Rider Craze will be the ones to take down the rumored Jay. I guess more specifically me!"
Throwing another punch towards Jay his fist began to change texture. Divided into hexagon sections small threaded lines formed in the hexagons. Fist turning black he aimed his blow in an uppercut movement towards Jay's jaw.
[Carbon Fiber Skin: Depending on the user's control, they can change part of their skin into a dense carbon fiber. The density and toughness of the carbon fiber changes depending on the total amount of surface area, and the user's control.]
Bzzzt-
The fist landed on a blue semi-translucent saber. A faint glow emanated from the saber, and Jay pushed against the fist, "That ability. . . the hell is the ex-vice captain of Bronze Cannon doing with some posse?"
"Don't call them a posse."
Jay's saber was pushed away and another fist came from the left. Leaning back Jay managed to get away with a small cut on the bridge of his nose. Kicking the thigh of the instigator he caused them to stumble back in pain. His Photon Saber gleamed dangerously as he slashed forward with the new distance.
Bzzz-
The forearms of the instigator turned black and they blocked the attack. Small arcs of electricity sparked as the Saber and Carbon Fiber made contact. Jay's eyes narrowed, "I'm certain now. You're Black Iron. The hell are you doing here? You willingly submitted to Heavy Thorns?"
"Don't muddle your brain with useless thoughts."
Jay was at a disadvantage here. His powerful ability couldn't quite cut through the Carbon Fiber skin of Black Iron. Moreover he lacked a strength advantage.
Black Iron was a heavily built man. With arms thick enough to crush a tree. He and his group all wore white bosozoku jackets with the sleeves rolled up. An unfamiliar language was written on the jacket, spelling words no one currently knew. Black Iron's hair was tied into a bun on the back of his head, a scraggly beard on his chin. There was a thick scar running down his cheek towards the jaw.
This was a veteran. The Bronze Cannon gang was originally a superpower. One of the first generation of gangs when the city was starting to become lawless. It was rumored that their strength was worthy of being a Quadrant. However as the Quadrants were becoming established they suddenly wiped by an unknown cause, and none of the members could be found.
Now here the Ex-Vice Captain of Bronze Cannon was here. Being a Vice Captain was a position on par with a Ghoul, or Enforcer. A second-in-command status. From Jay's memory Black Iron was banished from the gang after an incident shortly before they were wiped. At least that's what he could remember from rumors.
Knocking aside Jay's Saber, Black Iron slammed his fist into Jay's gut. Struggling against the urge to vomit Jay's Saber flickered out as he recoiled from the blow. Gripping his stomach he coughed up a bit of his breakfast.
Falling onto his knees Jay looked up, "I figured someone of your talent would've become something larger."
"You don't know shit."
Delivering a swift kick to Jay's jaw Black Iron knocked him out. Track, currently subduing one of the group members, shouted, "Jay! Get back up!"
Black Iron rolled his shoulder and adjusted his outfit, "The Leader of Heavy Thorns is among the few I respect. Not a damn chance he fell to you."
One of the Street Dogs knocked out a group member. Without hesitation they leapt towards Black Iron, their palms red hot and steaming.
[Thermal Palm: Heating up by causing an extreme amount of friction the user's palm will increase in temperature. Due to this the user's palm is capable withstanding and creating extreme heat, however this is limited to exclusively their own palm. This ability has a history of causing several severe burns to both victims and the user.]
Reaching out to grab Black Iron's face the Street Dog snarled, "Clearly misplaced trust!"
Winding his fist back the entirety of his fist turned into a dark Carbon Fiber. Punching forward with an extreme might he punched the Street Dog's face. His arms were longer, and the Thermal Palm hovered a few inches away from his face before his punch landed.
A sickening crunch startled a lot of the Street Dogs. The blow was devastating. With a single punch the Street Dog was blown back, nearly rolling in the air. Falling to the ground it quickly became clear that they were unconscious. A mangled and bloody face replacing whatever they used to look like.
Track's eyes wavered, "Shit! Did you kill him?!"
Black Iron massaged his wrist, "I wonder."
"You do know killing someone is grounds for war right?!"
With a look that couldn't care less Black Iron placed his hands into his pockets, "War with who? Some part time wannabe street gang?"
"We're a fucking District now!"
"Guess I wouldn't mind being a District too. I'm sure many others have similar ideas."
Black Iron was right. Not everyone fully believed in the strength of the Street Dogs. Brawls were spread across the street as many street gangs believed it was a perfect time to become a District themselves. Considering the Street Dogs weren't in the best of conditions, these fights were not all going well.
The issue with quick ascension was showing almost immediately. Compared to Heavy Thorns which slowly spread its control across the District for a year, the Street Dogs went from a gang controlling a street to a whole District overnight.
Track clenched his jaw. They remained outnumbered, and it seemed the leader of the group was a fearsome foe. Taking down a Street Dog with a single hit, it caused them to lose in morale. Additionally Track had heard Jay's previous conversation. To think that Black Iron was here of all places, what rotten luck.
Another Street Dog leapt into action. Attempting to subdue Black Iron from behind. Their nails extended into claws and they aimed towards Black Iron's neck. His skin rippled and turned into Carbon Fiber, causing the claws to bounce off harmlessly. Without even looking back Black Iron grabbed the Street Dog's wrist and flipped him over. A movement similar to that of a Judo throw, however it lacked the polish.
Martial Arts as a whole became lost after the rise in abilities. Therefor no one really knew what Judo was, and this was just a throw out of experience and instinct. The Street Dog had the air knocked out of his lungs and they struggled to regain their breath. In a final movement Black Iron locked the arm he still held, and with a powerful stomp he snapped the bone.
With a howl of pain the Street Dog held their arm while struggling to breathe. Black Iron had subdued three of the Street Dogs alone, with very few moves. Lacking even a single bead of sweat he stared listlessly towards the rest, "Tell this to the Street Dogs leader. I'm coming for the District. Now leave."
It wounded their pride to be handled like this. Thankfully Track was not blind to his pride however. Quickly he ordered, "Grab the injured, we head back."
With complicated expressions the rest of the Street Dogs carefully grabbed the injured and left.
The young boy, who had been watching the whole time, held a complicated feeling in his heart. Following the rest he looked back at the Rider Craze gang. Such strength. . .
It reminded him of that night. Of Ivak's cruel actions.